


In These Fallen Leaves

by masksarehot



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eventual Happy Ending, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Love, M/M, Romance, Slow Build, versatile sex roles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-04-08
Packaged: 2018-09-14 05:19:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9163906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masksarehot/pseuds/masksarehot
Summary: [Post-Chapter 88 canon divergent AU] Ten years after the end of the war, Levi, still heartbroken over Erwin's death, is living out a quiet existence with the few Survey Corps survivors. But signs are beginning to surface that Erwin is not truly dead, and they're getting too vivid to ignore...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Thank you for clicking. Some details about this fic:
> 
> ⦁ Fic title is courtesy of twitter user 2aguacates. Thank you, Paisley! <3
> 
> ⦁ This is a canon-divergent AU as of Chapter 88. I've filled in some of the current lore gaps with, quite frankly, what is most convenient to this plot. Handwavy lore ahead!
> 
> ⦁ This is set a decade after the events of SNK. Several main characters died in the war, including Eren and Ymir. These deaths still heavily impact the survivors.
> 
> ⦁ This is a story about recovery and love; it will start with angst as characters cope with canon events, then get progressively happier as it goes.
> 
> ⦁ This fic is eruri through and through. However, there is mention of Erwin/random dude (past) and Levi/random dude (after reasonable mourning period); it all has eruri undertones.
> 
> ⦁ Updates are likely to be slow, as I'm on maternity leave right now and my wee baby takes up a lot of my time. <3 Thank you for your patience!

**Part I**

Leaves coat Erwin's memorial stone, blood red and rotting. Levi claws at them, wincing as the cold soaks into his fingers. This is the tenth autumn, the tenth time he's struggled to keep decay away from the monument. He hates autumn.

The scent of smoke fills the air. He turns to see it curling from the chimney; the kitchen windows glow orange with the sunset. He didn't realize he has been out so long. Hange is probably waiting on the meat.

He picks up the rabbit. His knees creak as he stands.

"I should clean this thing and get inside." He always feels a bit ridiculous when he talks to the stone, but he feels hollow if he doesn't. "See you tomorrow."

He skins and cleans the rabbit. A spray of blood spatters his cheek; he curses his sloppiness and swallows back an onslaught of memories. If he starts recalling them, he'll never get this done, and Hange's probably getting hungry. He finishes cleaning the carcass and buries the remains in the pit.

Hange is sitting at the table reading an anatomy book. The cutting board is filled with neatly chopped leeks, carrots and cabbage. A pot of stock bubbles on the stove. "You're late."

"Snare was empty," he lies. He pulls out another cutting board, then begins to scrub his hands in the sink.

Hange steps forward to prepare the meat. "There's a letter for you. I got one too."

He turns to see a red envelope on the counter, pressed with a wax seal. His stomach drops. "Who died?"

"It's nothing like that. She wants the four of us to meet up for a quiet celebration of the anniversary of the end of the war."

"What's the point?" He opens the letter and scans it, then drops it on the counter when he sees the date: October 14th. "No."

"What," Hange says, "you're going to sit here and talk to a stone instead?"

It's a fundamental difference between the two of them: Hange deals with loss by pushing it aside and pursuing new goals. Levi's goals died ten years ago.

"If I don't celebrate his birthday, no one will," he says.

Hange turns to him, lips pursed.

"I know," he says pre-emptively.

"You can still remember him in Mitras."

"I know."

"They can remember him with us."

That argument makes him pause. Historia and Mikasa have known loss, too; the four of them understand it better than anyone.

Besides, Historia has access to the best wines. He could take a bottle to the rooftop of the MP Headquarters and relive that night, years ago, when he and Erwin slipped away to discuss political strategy. Levi can't remember what the discussion was about, but he remembers the comfortable silence as they watched the sunset together.

"Fine."

"Bring something nice to wear," Hange says. "There's a ball on the fifteenth."

"Fine." He knows exactly which suit he'll bring.

.*.*.*.

Levi falls asleep in the carriage to Mitras, and when he wakes up, the bolo tie has left its impression in his palm. He doesn't remember pulling it out of his pocket; he tucks it away. He can tell, by Hange's worried expression, that he was having nightmares again, but neither of them mentions it.

Historia waits for them in the throne room, Mikasa standing solemnly at her side. When the Queen sees them, she smiles and runs forward to give Hange a hug. Even though she's in her mid-twenties, Historia is still tiny, her large eyes deceptively youthful. There is power in her stance and her speech, however, so much so that Levi often forgets just how small she is until she hugs him. Her hug lasts several beats too long, and he stiffens and tries to pull away.

Hange has a hug for Mikasa, too, but Levi only has a knowing glance and a nod. They've been at a polite impasse since the war ended. She reminds him of Erwin's death; he reminds her of Eren's.

The four of them sit in the Queen's dining room, a large room with tapestries on the wall. The chairs are padded and have too many cushions. Levi sets a couple on the floor before he sits down.

The royal staff brings them each a plate of beef stew and a glass of fine wine. No one speaks until the staff leaves the room.

"Thank you for coming," Historia says. "It means a lot to me that we can get together like this – ten years is an important anniversary."

Levi turns his gaze to her. "It's Erwin's birthday today."

"Oh, is it?" Without missing a beat, Historia gives him a kind smile and raises her glass. "The four of us know how much Commander Erwin contributed to the war. There's no question humanity would still be dying to the titans if not for his efforts. It's because of him peace found the Walls. So, it's fitting that we toast him on what would have been his birthday. To Commander Erwin."

The others repeat the phrase as they lift their glasses, but only Hange is enthusiastic. Mikasa is staring at her plate, a blank expression on her face. Levi swallows back a surge of anger. They make a strange family, the four of them, and it's important they stay together. They're all they have left of the war.

Even though it's a memorial dinner, no one is willing to talk about their memories. Hange fills the silence by talking about their ongoing research to create a titan cure from shifter spinal fluid. Levi glances at Mikasa; her knuckles are white as she violently cuts her meat into smaller and smaller pieces.

"The dispersion system worked with the water tests, but it's still a small-scale prototype." Hange pulls out a notepad and makes a quick sketch, then passes it to Historia. "It should scale up nicely to the size we need. Then we just need to find a way to cluster titans into large groups – we may need to use soldiers as bait."

Historia smiles. "That's good progress on the dispersion system. But how is the actual cure itself coming?"

The light in Hange's eye dulls. "We have a limited supply of spinal fluid, so I need to be absolutely certain before I start testing-"

"It's okay," the Queen says. "I understand."

But Mikasa shoves back her chair and storms to the window. She pretends to look through it, as if she's making sure they aren't being overheard. Levi can see her fist trembling.

Well, if she's going to start getting dramatic, then he needs to leave. He pushes his chair away, too, and grabs one of the wine bottles. "I have to be somewhere."

"I see," Historia says. "Before you go, I'd like to invite you to a royal ball tomorrow night, in celebration of the harvest. It's formal attire, so I'd be happy to pay for a suit if-"

"I have a suit."

"Okay. Breakfast is at nine tomorrow."

He nods and leaves the room, tightly gripping the neck of the bottle.

It's a short walk to the MP Headquarters. The air is brisk; it cuts through him almost as deeply as the innocent laughter and smiles of the people he passes on the street. He finds himself cursing every single one of them.

The soldiers at Headquarters salute and greet him with "Guard Captain." He nods back and pushes past them. He pauses as the hallway brings him past the office of Commander Nile Dok. The light is on. Even though it hurts every time, the desire to connect with any part of Erwin's past makes him poke his head in.

"Working late, shitbeard?"

Nile looks up from the desk. His hair is greying, his face lined with wrinkles that deepen when he smiles. He has been smiling a lot more frequently over the past decade than he ever did during the war. "Did you bring that to share? I could use a drink."

Levi looks down at the wine bottle. "No, I only share wine with friends."

"So, you're drinking alone?"

It's meant to be lighthearted banter, but it still stings. Levi slumps against the doorframe. "How are Marie and the kids?"

"Good. Luke got into medical school."

"That's a start – at least one of your kids won't end up a paperwork grunt like you."

Nile snorts. "Well, Henrietta's talking about joining the Garrison, but Erwin's asking a lot of questions about the MP these days."

Levi's stomach knots. "Maybe he'll be a Commander one day, like his old man."

The Commander puffs up, but downplays his pride: "Maybe, maybe not. He's still a kid; his mind changes every day. He wanted to be a firefighter a couple months back. Marie wasn't too fond of that idea."

"But she's fine with the MP? She thinks the military is safer than firefighting?"

"Not as if any of us will ever see real combat." Nile leans back in his chair, clasping his hands behind his head in a stretch. "You in town for a few days?"

"I guess so. Her Majesty is dragging me to a stupid ball tomorrow night."

"About time you actually spend some time doing your job. You can't really be a Guard Captain if you don't actually guard her now and then," Nile says dryly. "Oh, right: _retirement._ Explain to me again why a mid-forties Guard Captain can afford to retire, but the Commander of the Military Police can't?"

Levi's fist tightens. He would trade all the money for the man who left it to him. "Maybe because I didn't spawn three brats."

Nile gives a laugh so deep and loud that Levi swears he feels the floorboards vibrate beneath his feet. "Well, if you're still in town night after tomorrow, come by for dinner. Marie and the kids would love to see you."

"Maybe."

"Bring some of that wine if you do. It looks expensive."

Levi looks at the bottle. "I told you, I only drink wine with friends."

They exchange nods and goodnights, then Levi steps away. He feels like he's stepping away from a campfire; the cold air settles in his bones again.

He ducks through a side door and climbs the ladder to the roof. The breeze is even colder up here than it had been on the street. He pulls his jacket tightly around himself.

Once the bottle is open, he closes his eyes, trying to picture Erwin beside him. His memories are getting less clear as time passes, so he takes the time to paint him from top to bottom: his hair, his eyebrows, his eyes... The voice is harder. He still remembers the words – the important ones, anyway – but his own internal voice has overwritten Erwin's. He gets flashes of it now and then, mostly when he's not actively trying to recall it.

He takes a swig of wine and pulls the bolo tie out of his pocket. He brings it to his nose; the string still has a faint whiff of Erwin's cologne. Or maybe he's just imagining it.

"This is supposed to be getting easier," he says to the stone. He pours a small amount of wine onto the rooftop in his honour, then takes another swig. His thumb traces the gold border around the rim; he can barely see it in the dark, but he can feel it.

"I hope you're resting well. Maybe I'll see you again one day. Maybe soon."

He's silent until he finishes the bottle, and even though he's shivering, he stays up there for a while longer, staring across the seat of the kingdom that has already forgotten the man responsible for saving it.

.*.*.*.

He awakens early the next morning in the guest room. His mouth is dry and tastes like old alcohol. He washes the taste away with another glass. The day after Erwin's birthday is always the hardest: the dawn of yet another year without him.

He makes his way to the dining hall and asks the servants to bring him crepes, eggs, and spiced apple juice. While Historia has been clear that all her citizens deserve fair treatment, she hasn't actively turned away a life of luxury, either. He hears she frequently brings in children off the street to feed them fancy dinners, so at least she's not hogging the extravagance to herself the way the previous aristocrats did.

He's halfway through the crepes when Historia walks in, dressed in a white dress shirt, a quilted skirt, and a scarf the colour of the sky. She gives him a sad smile. "Did you sleep well?"

He shrugs. "Bed had too many pillows. It was like sleeping on a damned cloud."

"One of the orphanages has had the children making pillows for craft time, and they gave those to me during their last visit."

"Oh." That lifts his mood a bit. "Cute."

"I thought so, too, so treat those pillows with care." She sits, leaving only one chair between them along the enormous oak table. "I didn't realize it was the Commander's birthday yesterday. I'm sorry to have asked you here on such an important date."

He glances at the doorway, but she holds up a hand as if to reassure him. "It's okay. I dismissed the guards so we can talk honestly."

The idea of having a deep, personal chat makes his skin crawl. He carefully trims his egg, making a game of it, trying to get as close to the yolk as he can without breaking it.

"Levi," Historia says, not a queen to a guard, not a soldier to her captain, but peer to peer. "I've started seeing someone."

He tenses, already guessing where the conversation is going. "Oh?"

"A member of the Council. She thinks I'm taking it slowly because of our roles. She doesn't know about Ymir; I don't know her well enough to trust her with any of that. It's...lonely, in a way." Historia's eyes are glassy. "I miss her, Levi. Every day. That's never going to change. But ten years is a long time, and we must choose our own happiness. It isn't a betrayal to the past if we shift our eyes to the future."

Levi looks down. "Our situations aren't the same."

"I know, believe me. I spend almost every waking moment with Mikasa – I know how deeply your bloodline's hurt runs, on a level I'll never understand. But please don't think Ackermans are the only ones changed by loss." She leans closer. "I'm not saying you have to find someone, but maybe it's time to start finding your own purpose in life again instead of just waiting for the days to pass. I think Ymir would be annoyed at me for putting my life on hold for so long to mourn her. Don't you think Erwin would want you to start healing?"

"He doesn't want anything. He's dead." The yolk has bled across his plate and soaked the crepes, and his stomach is suddenly sour. He pushes the plate away and leans back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest. "Cut the bullshit, Historia. Why all this talk about moving on? Are you trying to set me up with someone?"

Her eyes duck away, and he has his answer.

"I'm not interested."

"He just asked for an introduction at the ball tonight. He's quite taken with you."

He stands. "I'm going to the training yard."

"Levi." She catches his wrist. The contact buzzes his skin. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to push. I only want what's best for you – we all do."

The skin contact is so uncomfortable that he yanks his arm away. He gives her a long, displeased look. "I know what’s best for me." _And he’s gone._

As he strides to the hallway, he can still feel his skin vibrating from her touch.

.*.*.*.

"That's the suit you brought?" says Hange. "The sleeves are too long."

"I told you, I like the style. They don't make them like this anymore." He smooths the collars of the black jacket, studying himself in the mirror. He doesn't wear his cravat much anymore, and now it feels too tight around his neck. His hair is silver, his eyes bordered by thick lines. He has aged twenty years in ten. He frowns. "Historia's trying to set me up with someone."

"Yeah, she told me. Another admirer – it's amazing how many nobles like their men short and surly." Hange turns to him. "Does this look okay?"

Levi studies the suit, carefully fitted to Hange's narrow waist. Their bright auburn hair falls to their shoulders in curls, and he thinks he sees a hint of makeup behind the glasses. One eye is covered with a black eyepatch.

"Did you dye your hair? Who are you trying to impress?"

Hange's cheeks darken. "No one. I just wanted to cover the greys."

"Bullshit." Everyone's moving on except him. He steps forward and lifts the eyepatch to reveal the scarred eye, its pupil grey. "You haven't worn an eyepatch in almost ten years. Don't start now just because you're trying to impress some random asshole."

Hange sighs, then leans forward, forward, until their foreheads touch. "I know I keep telling you we need to move on, but this anniversary is hard. A part of me wishes I could forget it all."

"Regretting your choice?"

"No," Hange says, so quickly that it's almost a snap. "It's just...hard."

He closes his eyes, feeling the stability of their forehead against his. "I know." They can support each other. They're family now.

They walk to the ballroom with their arms linked at the elbows. Historia is immediately noticeable on the dance floor, spinning in a white dress that floats around her form like wisps of cloud. The woman she's dancing with is dressed in red. They look like two roses in bloom.

As they descend the staircase, Levi glances at the mezzanine, at a familiar spot along the curtains. He begins to think of Erwin, but he's distracted when the spot where Historia grabbed his wrist earlier begins to buzz again. He opens and closes his fist until it settles.

"Everything okay?" Hange asks.

"Fine." He locates the bar and steers them through the crowd. They settle beside the bar with wine glasses in hand. Hange quickly knocks back the drink, then squeezes Levi's shoulder and strides toward the dance floor.

He's about two-thirds through his glass when a deep voice to his left asks, "May I buy your next drink?"

He doesn't look over. "I can afford my own."

A pause, then the voice says, "I think you misunderstand my intentions."

He turns. The voice belongs to a tall man with slicked blond hair and a sharp nose. His eyes are bright green, framed by what appears to be thirty-odd years of life experience. His chest is narrower than Erwin's, and his lips seem to smirk even at neutral, but there are enough similarities that Levi's heart leaps.

He's not about to show his enthusiasm. "So, what are your intentions?"

"I'm try to flirt with you." The man chuckles. "It would appear I'm not doing a very good job."

"No, you're not. Did Historia put you up to this?"

The man's brows lift, presumably at his informal speech. "I did speak with Her Majesty earlier, yes, but she suggested I was wasting my time. I figured there was no harm in trying; a man can always use a fresh drink and some conversation even if he has no interest in pursuing anything more."

There's an honest, uncomplicated air about him that stands out amidst the usual confusion and unanswered questions of Levi's love life. "Who are you?"

"Lord Alec Farrington," the man says. "And you, of course, are the famed Guard Captain Levi Ackerman."

"Is that why you're flirting? Because you're a lord, and you crave the status that comes with sticking your dick in a celebrity?"

The lord's brows raise again. "She warned me you were rude."

"Answer my question."

The lord holds his gaze. "Originally, yes, your celebrity was a draw, as were your good looks, but now that I see how feisty you are, I'm thinking you'd be a lot of fun in bed." He takes a sip of his drink, then adds, "If you aren't similarly curious about me, I can try a bit harder to pique your interest. I'll buy you another drink and then impress you on the dance floor."

Levi can't remember the last time he was actively courted. His groin is pulled one way, his stomach another. Ten years is a long time. His mind drifts back to the curtains on the mezzanine; he longs to recapture that memory. "Brandy, this time."

They wander toward the fringes of the dance floor, drinks in hand. Levi watches the lord out of the corner of his vision. He moves with a swaggering arrogance that destroys the resemblance to Erwin, but that arrogance is compelling at the same time.

He expects them to head straight onto the dance floor, but Alec settles against a pillar instead. "That jacket's a bit big on you, Guard Captain. A lover's, perhaps?"

"No one you'd know."

"I might." The lord scans the crowd, an arrogant crease settling by his nose. "It's about fifteen years out of fashion – the lapels are all wrong, you see. The length suggests it belonged to someone about my height. You're still wearing it, so he must be dead; if you broke up with him, you would have returned it or destroyed it, and if you stole it, you wouldn't wear it in public." His eyes shift to Levi. "Commander Erwin Smith."

The floor tilts. "How-"

"Am I wrong?"

Levi's jaw tightens. "Who are you?"

"Exactly who I said. My father was a lapdog to King Reiss. Don't worry, I always supported the Survey Corps." He smiles. "I always looked up to you. Humanity's Strongest. I didn't realize you and the Commander were lovers."

"We weren't." The tightness has spread to Levi's throat, and his voice cracks as he says, "Tell me everything you remember about Erwin."

The lord raises a brow, as if waiting for an explanation, but Levi can't bring himself to offer one. "Everything," he repeats, hating the desperation in his voice.

And so Alec speaks about the times he saw the Commander in Mitras, about news stories he read. He doesn't know much, but it's something, and Levi stares through the bottom of his brandy glass as he listens.

_We will entrust our memories to the living._

Three drinks later, they make their way to the dance floor. Alec's cheeks are flushed, and through the haze of the alcohol, Levi thinks he looks like Erwin – not _Commander_ Erwin, but the man he saw during those rare, delirious late nights when they would drink over paperwork and laugh about nothing. He grabs Alec's scarf and pulls him down for a kiss, and his cologne almost smells like Erwin's, and maybe this is what Erwin's mouth would have felt like.

They kiss through one dance, then a second. He drags Alec to the mezzanine.

"Here," says Levi, lifting the curtain.

They slip through it into the alcove. It's a small storage room that must have been forgotten long ago; there's nothing in it but a table, barely visible in the dim light that bleeds through the curtain.

Levi's breath catches. Fifteen years ago, during his first official trip to Mitras, he stealthily trailed Erwin to this alcove and peered inside. Fifteen years ago, he saw two shadowy figures, saw Erwin pressing his lover into the table with a firm hand on his lower back, heard their soft gasps. It was the first and last time he ever saw Erwin drop his decorum and give in to base instinct. He still wonders if he dreamed it; the memory is such a sharp contrast with the Erwin he knew. That hasn't stopped him from revisiting that moment every time he sets foot in the ballroom.

He bends over the table and doesn't look back. "Fuck me here."

He closes his eyes. It's Erwin behind him, pulling down his pants, caressing his ass. He can almost hear his voice – his ears strain until they ring.

_Levi._

That was too clear to be fantasy. His eyes fly open.

"Just give me a moment to undo my belt," says Alec, far in the background, but his voice is drowned by rushing wind and Erwin's voice:

_Levi, help me!_

Levi's arm is burning, and his head spins. He stands and staggers backwards, breathing hard.

Alec is frozen beside him, his hands still on his belt buckle. "What's wrong?"

"I have to go."

"Was it something I said?" All arrogance is gone from his tone; he almost sounds hurt.

"No." Levi knows he should offer an explanation, but the walls of the alcove are reverberating with Erwin's voice and he needs to get out. He pulls up his pants and hurries to the curtain.

He pushes through the crowds and finds his way to a balcony. At first, he thinks it's unoccupied, but as he leans on the railing to catch his breath, he sees the orange glow of a cigar in the shadows near the wall. He's too raw to have company, but he doesn't trust his legs to hold up if he tries to leave.

After a moment, the glow lowers and a woman's silhouette paces toward him. As it steps into a patch of light, he recognizes Mikasa. He relaxes – _you –_ then tenses again – _you..._

"You're smoking cigars now?" he says.

"Not normally. Needed something a bit stronger tonight. Alcohol doesn't do much for me; you're probably the same." She settles on the railing next to him. That's surprising. Usually, she goes out of her way to avoid him. "I have another one, if you want it."

"No, it'll make me feel worse. Just give me a drag of yours."

She holds it out. He takes a mouthful of smoke and swishes it around. It tastes like burning leather, like a pyre. He spits it out. "Disgusting."

"Why are you upset?"

He eyes her. "I’m surprised to see you showing concern."

Her eyes narrow. "Please understand, Captain: you _chose_ to let go of the Commander. I didn't have any say with Eren."

Are they finally going to talk about this? The only way to repair their relationship is to be honest, so he says, "Erwin had already decided it was his time to go. I kept trying to hold on, but I was being selfish. I chose what was best for him, not what was best for me." He pauses. "Apparently it still fucks me up, ten years later." The Commander's voice from the alcove is still echoing in his mind, but it seems less real now. Likely, it was just a combination of nerves and alcohol. Sex hasn't been high on his priority list in a long time.

Mikasa takes another puff of the cigar, then slowly releases the smoke. "Hange and Historia don't understand what we're going through."

"No, they don't." They never really determined why their bloodline draws such strength from loyalty, but there is no denying the power of it. He wonders sometimes about Kenny. Did he feel this bond with someone, too? He seemed to be talking about a specific person on his deathbed, the person who was drunk on _something,_ but it's difficult to imagine Kenny loving anyone.

It's been ten years; maybe they need to stop being stubborn and acknowledge their similarities. Trying to avoid it hasn't helped their mutual resentment. "Look, it's shitty what happened to Eren. But he was like Erwin: he made his choice and gave himself to his cause until it destroyed him. There's only so long you can protect someone from himself." It hurts to openly acknowledge Erwin's self-destruction. It hurts to admit he gave too much of himself. Levi knows, deep down, he could have stopped it. "But if we had intervened," he says, thinking aloud, "humanity might not have found this time of peace."

There's a long silence, then Mikasa says, "Sometimes I wish I had said 'screw humanity' and fought for him instead."

The same thought comes to him often in the middle of the night.

"It's easier protecting Historia," Mikasa continues. "She actually listens to my opinions."

"Isn't it easier to protect her if you're at her side instead of hiding on a balcony?" He remembers the red and white dresses. "Or are you upset about the company she's keeping tonight?"

Mikasa frowns. "It's not like that."

"No, I get it. You need to be the most important person in the world to her. Doesn't have to be romantic."  He sees couples laughing and kissing in the courtyard below them, and his heart twists, so his gaze rises to the moon instead. It's the colour of Erwin's skin the day they left him behind. His head is spinning – maybe from the alcohol, maybe the cigar. "Glad you've found someone else to protect, at least. How did you manage to move on?"

Mikasa lets out a low, hollow laugh that reminds him how much she has aged since the war. "I didn't."

"So ten long years on, we're both sad sacks out on a balcony at a fancy party because we lost the people we swore to protect."

"Maybe." She pauses. "I'm out here because everything in there is artificial, but the stars and the moon, at least, are the same as the ones that were in the sky when I was a little girl."

He looks at her and feels paternal warmth kindling in his stomach for the first time since they fought on the rooftop in Shiganshina.

"No one told me the party moved to the balcony," a voice says behind them. A heavy arm drops on Levi's shoulder as Hange pushes into the gap between them.

He tries to pull away. "Are you drunk?"

"Yep." Hange lets out a loud, contented sigh, leaning heavily on him. "You two look miserable. Is this supposed to be a royal party or a pity party?"

Levi bristles. "Aren't you supposed to be flirting?"

After a long pause, Hange says, "Didn't work out."

He recognizes the defeat in their voice. Maybe ten years is too soon for non-Ackermans, too.

The three of them are silent as a breeze settles over them, and Hange is so warm that Levi leans closer.

"So, Levi," Hange says, "tell us about the jacket."

He stiffens. "What?"

"It's Erwin's, isn't it? I remember you wearing it back when we were all soldiers. I bet it's a cute story. We pathetic remnants could use a cute story."

He's still glowing from the alcohol and the cigar, and all this thinking about Erwin has made him nostalgic. "It's not really that cute. The night after my squad died, I was in his office and I fell asleep in a chair. When I woke up, the jacket was on my shoulders and he was gone. It was comfortable, so I kept it. That's it." He doesn't mention the faint, pleased smile Erwin gave him the next morning when he was still wearing it.

It's still strange to picture the Commander pausing to put the jacket on his shoulders. Erwin was never an overtly affectionate man. Notes of affection would creep into his voice when they spoke, but that was the extent of it. Those hints between them had been enough at the time, but as Levi recalls them now, it's easy to think he imagined them. The jacket is the only thing that keeps him from believing he read too much into their relationship. The jacket is proof Erwin cared about him.

Maybe, he reflects, that does make it a cute story, but he has already opened up too much tonight.

Girlish laughter sounds from the balcony adjacent to them. He turns to see Historia and her dance partner leaning against the railing. They're chuckling over some shared joke, arms interlocked, swaying together as if they're still dancing.

"Look at them," Hange murmurs behind him. "Look how their worlds have shrunk to only each other. You're lucky, Levi. I know it hurts now, but I'm glad you had that once."

Levi turns. "What?"

"You and Erwin. I wish I'd been brave enough to embrace my feelings like that, while I had the chance."

His stomach drops. "You think Erwin and I were a couple?"

Hange's eye widens, and there's a long silence before Mikasa says, "You weren't?"

Both are staring at him, and he's angry. All those times he told himself making a move would jeopardize Erwin's career... He pushes away from the railing and strides to the doorway.

"Levi," Hange calls. "Wait."

"I'm going to bed." He slams the balcony door behind him.

.*.*.*.

The voice comes to him again in his sleep. _Levi!_

He opens his eyes. The battered city of Shiganshina fades in around him as if a fog is lifting. He stands before the house where he left Erwin's side one final time.

_Levi, help me._

He turns and sees Erwin's grateful smile, the one he wore during their final goodbye – but no, it's stretching. It warps and grows to his ears, beyond. Sinew wraps around his arms, his legs.

Then a titan stands before him, proud nose and sharp blue eyes, and that final smile parts to release a blast of sulphurous air.

"Help...me...Le...vi..."

Levi startles awake. He's alone in the darkness, and his arm is burning.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your comments, your kudos, your time, and your patience.
> 
> This is where the lore starts to get a bit handwave-y, and some of it is already a bit contradicted by canon, but eh, ✧・ﾟ: *✧AU✧・ﾟ: *✧!
> 
> <3

**Part II**

**Year 844**

Levi eyed the watch captain and stepped closer to the campfire.

"The hell are you doing, recruit?" the watch captain barked. "Keep patrolling."

"Give me a second. I can't feel my fingers."

The soldier looked as if he had been smacked in the face by a stray branch. "Are you seriously disobeying my orders while being disciplined for insubordination?"

"Go easy on him, Gerelt," a voice said behind them. "He's still too new to understand proper protocol."

They turned to see Erwin walking through the grass toward them.

"Squad Leader." Gerelt scrambled to his feet and saluted. "There's no room for confusion. He's supposed to be patrolling the fence as punishment-"

"I heard, but there are no titans in the vicinity, and I need to speak with him. Why don't you go inside for a few minutes and get warm, then resume your patrol?" Erwin gave the man a polite smile. "Call for us if you need our swords."

Gerelt nodded. "Sir."

Levi watched him walk away, then scoffed and sat on a log close to the fire. "Asshole wouldn't even give me a cloak."

"No, I imagine not." Erwin settled onto the log, too, leaving a respectable gap between them. "I hear you disobeyed a retreat order."

"Yeah, to kill three titans, one an abnormal. They would have wiped out my team if I hadn't."

Erwin pulled a flask out of his cloak and held it out.

Levi studied it for a moment, then gingerly curled his fingers around it and drew it to his nose to sniff it.

"It isn't poisoned," Erwin said, with a hint of amusement that made Levi's blood boil.

"I know that. You assholes need me alive." It smelled of alcohol and fruit. "Apple cider?"

"Pear. It's probably lukewarm by now, but it should still taste pleasant. My Squad Leader brought me a drink when I was punished for disobeying bad orders, once upon a time. I thought it appropriate to continue the tradition."

The drink was sweet, and warm enough that he felt heat deep in his chest. "Can't picture you disobeying orders." He realized, even as he said the words, that Erwin was exactly the type of man to disobey a bad order. Hell, he was the type of man to disobey a bad order and somehow convince his superior the disobedience had been their idea in the first place.

"My situation was almost the same as yours. The Commander ordered a retreat, but I saw a titan bearing down on my Squad Leader. I broke rank and saved his life." Erwin stared into the fire, his face relaxed in a manner Levi had never seen before. "The military only works because everyone respects the chain of command. That is vital. But a rare handful of soldiers have the life experience and instinct necessary to make their own decisions." His eyes focussed on Levi, who felt a chill run through him again. "You're one of those soldiers, Levi. That's why I recruited you. Your instincts are a gift. I always want you to trust them, even if others don't understand your actions."

"Will I end up doing shitty night watches every time?" Levi said.

"Not once I'm Commander."

Maybe it was his unwavering certainty that this would come to pass, or maybe just the drink, but Levi's chest glowed. "You should be Commander now."

After a pause, Erwin turned to him. "What makes you say that?"

"Anything the Survey Corps has ever done correctly has been your idea." Levi took another swig, and the glow prompted him to add, "Besides, it's what my instincts tell me."

Erwin studied him for a moment longer, then turned to look at the fire with a gentle smile. Levi stared at the smile and wondered if it was an illusion of the flickering light, or if Erwin Smith really was capable of softness.

 

**Year 860**

"I'm sorry," says Hange again. "I didn't mean to upset you. I didn't know."

The campfire fades into lamplight, and the carriage's rattle rises around Levi. _Your instincts are a gift._ He remembers Erwin's voice so clearly now...

"Levi, please talk to me." Hange crosses the carriage to sit by him.

It's the first time they have come out of their shell all morning, so he should acknowledge them, but he would rather slip deep into his memories. He's still raw from last night's conversation. He closes his eyes and wraps Erwin's jacket tighter around himself.

Hange is terrible at taking a hint; they lean closer. "You were always together, and he left everything to you. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have assumed."

"I don't want to talk about this," he says, hoping a scrap of conversation will silence them again.

"It's just... I wanted at least one of us to have found some glimmer of happiness in all we went through."

The unexpected quietness in their voice prompts him to open his eyes. His sympathy wars with his foul mood for a moment, and then he says, "We did find something close to happiness. You enjoyed your research so much that you forgot to bathe for days on end. I found purpose in being Erwin's right hand."

"That's not what I meant by happiness."

"I _was_ happy." He stares at the lamp again, feeling the glow of Erwin's smile. "Content, anyway. I thought Erwin was, too, until he started to show what has happening under the surface."

"After the revolution." They've talked about this before.

"I couldn't protect him from the sadness eating away at him. I didn't notice until he was wrapped too tightly in his own head. So, if you-" He jabs Hange's thigh, "-have sadness eating away at you, don't hide it from me."

"I'm fine."

"Yeah? You didn't say goodbye to Historia or Mikasa. I didn't even get to finish my breakfast tea." There's no response, so he adds, "It was good tea."

Hange leans their head against his shoulder and is quiet for a while, which could mean thoughtfulness or sleep. He's just beginning to think it's the latter when a soft voice says, "Did you ever want anything different from him?"

He feels a tempting swell of defensiveness, but being an asshole isn't going to help Hange. He's not going to ignore a dear friend's sadness, never again. "I was content with what we had."

"Do you think he wanted more?" There's a hint of desperation to Hange's voice that he can't quite read.

"He wanted something. Don't know what. Did I ever tell you about the book of stationery I found after he died?" He knows for a fact he has never mentioned it to anyone, but he needs to pretend this is a casual conversation, or he'll retreat from it.

"No," Hange says. "What was it?"

"It was in his desk drawer, fancy paper with gold foil along the borders. He'd used up most of it -- all that was left were unfinished letters. Most had spelling mistakes or ink blotches. I guess he was too meticulous to send imperfect letters to investors."

"He did have good attention to detail," Hange says, then adds, almost absently: "They both did."

So, that's the desperation he was picking up on: they want to talk about Moblit. He should shift the conversation toward him, but his story has momentum, and it's already spilling out of him. "I flipped through the pages and found a letter dated two days before the Shiganshina reclamation. All it said was _Dear Levi, I wish to explain to you_. I turned the page, and there was another: _My Dearest Levi,_ and that's it. Next page, _Dear Levi, after all we've been through together, I feel I owe you my honesty, and perhaps it's unfair to burden you with._ And another, and another. All end abruptly before he got to the point." There are eight in total, and he can quote them verbatim. He pulls the jacket tighter around his shoulders. "I thought maybe there was a finished version waiting somewhere. I yanked open the desk drawers, checked for false bottoms, checked under the desk. I shook out every book on those bookcases. Nothing. I hoped he had included it with his will, but he hadn't. Seems he never finished it."

"What do you think he was trying to tell you?"

"I don't know. We had an argument that night, so maybe it was an apology. Or maybe it had something to do with his dream. Whatever it was, he clearly wanted to speak to me on a personal level, but, in the end, decided he couldn't. I thought..." His throat catches. "I thought we were closer than that."

"It was hard -- we were all keeping our distance from each other, a bit. We had to." After a moment, Hange adds, "I didn't even know Moblit had a sister. I found out the day I read his will. How could that be? We saw each other day in and day out for a decade, and I didn't know the most basic things about him."

Levi realizes he doesn't know if Erwin had any siblings, either. He assumes it was just father and son. Hell, the only reason Erwin knew about Levi's mother was because it was pertinent information when Kenny died. It wasn't as if either of them were withholding any information; it just never came up.

The letter was different. Whatever Erwin wanted to say, he actively chose to silence himself.

"It seems so foreign now," Hange continues. "Feeling like we had to protect ourselves like that. But at the same time, I don't think I ever shook the habit."

"Yeah." This is still a difficult discussion after ten years of sharing a house, a garden, meals, late night conversations. Maybe it's not too late to correct that. Other than Erwin, he has never known friendship like Hange's. "What happened with the person you were trying to impress last night?"

A soft puff of air leaves Hange's nose. "I realized we had nothing in common. He asked what I do for work, and I faltered and couldn't figure out how to recover. He wouldn't have the faintest idea what I'm talking about, and there's no way to explain it to him without revealing everything we've sworn to keep buried. That was when I realized I have nothing of note outside my work. In the eyes of most of the population, my day-to-day life doesn't exist."

"I thought maybe you missed Moblit."

Hange is quiet for several beats, then says, "And you?"

"Me?"

"I saw you kissing a handsome fellow on the dance floor, but you were with Mikasa a few minutes later."

Levi shrugs it off, but he feels a pang of regret for ditching Alec so suddenly. The pang dulls as he recalls the clarity of Erwin's voice in the alcove, in the dream. "Hey, Hange?"

"Yeah?"

"Erwin was definitely dead when we left him, right?"

"What?" Hange pulls back to give him a concerned look. "Levi, what kind of question-"

"I know. Don't worry, I know," he says, but he's not sure he does.

 

Over the next several days, he buries himself in routine: clear leaves off Erwin's memorial stone, hunt, garden, visit the stone again, rest by the fire, sleep.

Speaking to the memorial is uncomfortable now. The titan dreams haven't stopped, and Erwin would be concerned about him putting too much stock in them. If there's anyone who understands the risks of getting too caught up in an obsessive line of thought, it's Erwin.

Levi _is_ caught up in it, though. Every night, he sits by the fireplace with Hange, staring through a book instead of reading it. Erwin is a titan. Erwin is a titan, and he's calling for help through dreams.

One week after their return, he awakens to frost on the rotting leaves. A window is closing; soon there will be snow on the ground, and travel to Shiganshina will be difficult -- if not impossible -- until spring.

The urgency pushes his dreams into the daytime, and they blur with his waking hours. He checks the snares and smells the sulphurous scent of titans. He separates flesh from meat and sees Erwin's corpse.

One night, he splits a pumpkin and sees Erwin's titan grin splitting his face.

He grips the edge of the counter and tips forward over the pumpkin, squeezing his eyes shut. Why now? Why is he losing it now, so long after everything happened? He built a life for himself, found routine.

A hand grips his shoulder, and he hears Hange calling his name.

He doesn't dare turn around; he knows his face will show distress. "Dizzy. I must be coming down with something."

"You yelled Erwin's name."

He pushes himself upright. Strings of pumpkin innards hang from his hands, and his stomach lurches. "Fuck."

After a long pause, Hange says, "Come sit down."

They lead him to the living room and sit him in front of the fire, then return a minute later with a damp cloth and a glass of water. Levi gratefully cleans pumpkin off his hands, then accepts the water. It's cool against his throat; the knot there loosens.

Hange kneels on one knee in front of him, meeting his gaze with no judgement. "This anniversary is difficult."

"It's not just that." Even though there's only kindness on their face, he turns away. "Historia grabbed my arm, and since then, I've had visions and dreams of Erwin turning into a titan, begging me to help him."

"What?"

He forces the words out: "Could Erwin be a titan?"

"He was dead, Levi." Hange's voice is gentle. "He had no pulse, no breaths. His body was already cooling when we left him."

"Eren was able to use the coordinate a final time by holding hands with Historia. What if her touch triggered something in me, too? What if it connected me to him?"

"You're an Ackerman. You aren't connected the way the rest of us Eldians are. Besides, Eren and Historia's actions were amplified by the Reiss family caverns."

This is the grounding he needs. Logic and facts will keep him from getting lost in his dreams. He takes a long breath.

"Although..." Hange's brow furrows.

He deflates. "Although what?"

"We know there's a special bond between Ackermans and the person they choose to protect -- what if it functions in a similar way to the Eldian bond? If so, it's possible Historia could augment that connection."

"Stop." He doesn't need hope.

Hange squints for a moment, as if in deep in thought, and then their face lights up. "Mike."

"What?"

"I have to check my notes to be sure." Hange jumps to their feet and strides to the staircase.

Levi tentatively follows. He hasn't been downstairs in years. As he steps through the door at the bottom, he's relieved to see Hange's living quarters are neater than he feared. The books on the coffee tables and the desk are all neatly stacked. The bed is made. Through the open door at the end of the room, he can see Hange's laboratory. There's so much lab equipment that it looks disorganized to his untrained eye, but everything else is categorized and labelled on shelves and in drawers.

Hange hunches over the desk, flipping through a notebook. They stop and stab their finger into a page. "There. Castle Utgard. The 104th reported seeing titans that looked like Mike and his squad."

Levi circles toward them, leaving a respectable distance between himself and suspicious red-orange liquid in one of the test tubes. "Maybe the Bestial Titan transformed Mike into a titan. No one was there when he died, so we don't know what happened."

"That's what I always thought, but there were others -- Nanaba, Gelgar -- people who were seen being eaten. Moblit had a pet theory we never gave much thought, one he used to explain what happened to Connie's village." Hange's eye scans the page as they speak. "We, as a society, always burn the dead within seventy-two hours; we've all accepted it as disease prevention, which makes sense. But what if it's a holdover from before a previous memory wipe, something to protect us if the titans break through like they did in Trost?"

Levi isn't following. "Get to the point."

"Moblit's theory was that titan infection was a disease that could be spread through a titan's bite. After death, the disease would make the corpse's cells expand in an exothermic reaction, not unlike yeast."

"The serum comes from spinal fluid-"

"We know _shifter_ abilities come from ingesting spinal fluid. I still haven't been able to confirm the titan serums themselves are spinal fluid, and even if they are, that doesn't rule out communicable disease as another mode of transmission. It could even explain the differences in behaviours we saw in different titan specimens." Hange's eye seems to be twinkling. "Maybe he was right, and I've been going about this all wrong. Maybe we need to be looking for some sort of antiviral compound? Or antifungal?" They flip through the pages, skimming the words.

"Mike's squad died and appeared right away, not seventy-two hours later."

Hange doesn't look up. "Maybe the speed of transformation might depend on the site of the bite, or on how long the immune system can fight it before death occurs?"

"And Erwin died from the rocks the bestial titan was throwing at him, not being eaten-" Levi stops. "His arm."

Hange turns to him as if remembering he is in the room, face softening. "This is all just wild conjecture. There was no indication Erwin was turning into a titan when we left him."

But Levi spins on his heel and marches upstairs. Behind him, Hange calls his name. He passes through the shared floor, heading upstairs to his section of the house. There's a closet at the end of the hall, one he hasn't looked inside for a couple years now.

He throws the doors open. Two 3D manoeuvre gear apparati hang from hooks: his and Erwin's. He was supposed to return both to the military, but procrastinated. No one will remember he has them, anyway.

He pulls down his gear and checks the gas; still full. He still has blades, too. He begins to buckle the straps over his pants, then pulls off his jacket, then buckles the chest straps over his dress shirt. Even after all this time, his fingers move cleanly through the routine.

"Levi," Hange says behind him. "What are you doing?"

"If he's out there, I'll find him. If not, I'll find his corpse, and I'll know I'm losing it."

"You're going back to Shiganshina? There are still titans outside Wall Rose-"

"Marley isn't attacking anymore, so they're randomly wandering. I can avoid them." He clicks the blade cases into place. "Ymir told Eren being a titan was a living nightmare. If Erwin's been living that way for ten years, then I didn't save him -- I sent him to an even worse hell. I can't leave him there." He inspects the blade handles and, finding them in satisfactory condition, turns to face Hange. "I need a canister of the serum we extracted from Eren."

"What?" Hange's face was pale, but now it's turning red, brow slowly lowering. "We have a limited supply."

"I know. I only need one."

"You're going to inject him with it?"

"I'm going to make him eat it."

"We don't know what it will do. Eren died without passing on his power, so it went to a random Eldian child. For all we know, his spinal fluid is no more useful than water."

"If he's a titan, and the fluid doesn't turn him into a shifter, then I'll kill him." He tries to push past them to get to his bedroom, but Hange grips his shoulders.

"Levi. Think about this. You haven't been combat-ready in years. You said yourself you're physically weaker after Erwin died. Besides, you have no way to get over the Wall-"

"I'll climb it with the 3DMG."

"The Garrison will kill you on sight. You don't have a horse on the other side, and if Marley finds out one of us has left the walls, they'll consider it a breach of our agreement." Hange's eye is rimmed with tears. "Please, Levi, you have to think with your head and not your heart. I was just thinking aloud -- you're chasing after a dream."

If he dies chasing a dream, it'll be a fitting end.

Still, it's true he hasn't thought this through. If his visions are true, then he has one chance to save Erwin. He must do it right. "Fine."

That night, he writes a letter to Historia and rides into town to hire a messenger.

 

The next afternoon, as he and Hange are tending to the garden, they see a white horse gallop up the path. Levi leans on the handle of his spade and watches Mikasa arrive. She's dressed in riding clothes, a narrow cap perched on her ponytailed head. She dismounts and they exchange greeting nods; she hands him an envelope and a leather sack.

Hange takes Mikasa inside for a meal and some tea. Levi studies the envelope for a long time before he opens it. After basic pleasantries, Historia writes:

_"I understand your request. If I were in your situation, I'd want to know for certain, and nothing would stop me. The Commander himself turned a generous blind eye to me when I insisted on putting myself -- the last of my bloodline -- at risk in the fight against my father. In his honour, I will grant you this favour, but unofficially. Surrender this letter to Mikasa after you have read it._

" _Go by nightfall and present my seal and the enclosed orders to a guard named Byers. She is loyal and will be discrete. If you survive your expedition and return, do so only when she is on shift so she can let you back in._

_"If Marley finds out, I will claim you forged the seal, and you will be executed to prove we're upholding our agreement. Be careful, Levi._

_"HRH Historia"_

He opens the sack to find a wax seal impression on a violet ribbon, and a large lit crystal from the Underground caverns.

As he enters the house, he sees Mikasa and Hange seated on the couch with tea, conversing like old friends.

He hands the letter to Mikasa. "I'm leaving tonight."

Hange's face falls. "Levi-"

"She gave me permission."

"What?" Hange turns to Mikasa, as if seeking confirmation that the whole thing is ridiculous.

Mikasa studies her tea. "She seems to feel personally responsible for the visions in the first place."

"They aren't visions," Hange says, voice rising. "They're dreams and wishful thinking. You can't rely on your emotions over logic, Levi. That's why you let him die in the first place."

It's a low blow, but not low enough to dissuade him. Levi strides upstairs and pulls on his gear. He throws a blanket into the sack, then returns to the kitchen to add some dried fruit and half a loaf of bread. As he fills his water canister, he hears the floor boards creak behind him.

"Please, Levi." Hange's voice is small, smaller than he has ever heard it.

He turns, and their eyes lock. "I've been waiting ten years to heal," he says. "It's not getting better. I need to do this."

"I can't lose you, too."

The words sit in his stomach like ice. "I don't plan on dying out there. I just need to see his remains for myself, one last time."

Mikasa steps forward and gently places a hand on Hange's shoulder, and Levi is struck by the role reversal from the rooftop ten years ago.

Hange must recognize it, too, because their head drops in defeat. "Tell me you loved him."

He has never allowed himself to think the words, let alone say them, but he doesn't hesitate. "Yeah."

"Tell me you'd find happiness with him if you had a second chance."

His throat constricts at the idea, and he can't find words. It's so much more complicated than a yes or no answer, but he can only manage a nod.

"Mikasa," Hange says, unmoving, "as Eren's living heir, do you consent to a portion of the remaining spinal fluid being used, should the need arise? This will be an ideal opportunity to test whether it can be used as a cure."

"How many vials do you have left?" Mikasa asks.

"Seven."

Mikasa looks at Levi, gaze piercing through him as cold and hard as a blade. "I believe we owe you one, Captain."

Hange presses the vial into Levi's palm. "If this works, we may be able to save the other remaining mindless titans."

His fingers coil around the vial. _Another vial. Another choice._ He shoves the thought aside. His only objective now is to find Erwin.

 

He and Hange don't exchange words, just a hug that's a bit too tight and too long to be comfortable.

Levi rides to the gate without looking back. A Garrison soldier is sleeping in a chair.

"Hey," Levi says, halting the horse.

The guard doesn't move; a low snore slips from her mouth.

Levi dismounts and kicks the bottom of her boot. "Hey."

The guard blinks and sits up, rubbing her eyes. "What?" Her breath reeks of alcohol.

"Are you Byers?"

"Yeah."

Her lack of vigilance is understandable, but frustrating at the same time. He shoves the orders and royal seal at her. She spits, then stands up -- wobbly -- and unrolls the scroll. As she reads, her eyes snap to him. "Guard Captain Levi."

He interrupts her before her hands can move: "Don't salute. No one can know I'm here."

"What kind of order is this? No one's been outside for more than a hundred years."

His eyes narrow. "I can handle it. Are you on shift again tomorrow night?"

"Yes."

"If I'm coming back at all, I'll find you then."

She studies him for a moment, then shakes her head, relenting. She signals to two other soldiers, and they begin to lower the elevator. She rides with him to the top of the wall. The breeze is strong up here, sweet with decaying leaves and grass. He feels a strum in his heart, a single note of a tune he had almost forgotten. He's breathless when he speaks:

"Send them out of sight and lower me."

"Sir."

He expects another strum as the horse steps onto the soil outside Wall Rose, but instead, focus washes over him, pulls his spine straight. It's been so long since he's had a mission, a _purpose_. He retrieves the lit crystal from his backpack and aims the light at the overgrown path.

As the horse begins to move, he finally allows himself to consider his ridiculous quest. He's going to travel all the way to Shiganshina and, once he gets there, he's going to willingly look at Erwin's remains. He still gets constant, painful mental flashes of his body; how will he react when he sees an actual skeleton?

But his instinct is pulling him forward, and he will always follow his instincts. If Erwin were riding beside him, his eyes would soften the way the only did for Levi and he'd tell him to trust himself.

He sees no titans during his journey, not even sleeping ones. Perhaps Eren turned them away with the coordinate -- they still don't know how many of their goals he accomplished before the ritual overwhelmed him. Or perhaps Marley called them back as part of the agreement. Whatever the case, it's astonishing how short this journey is when he's travelling alone. It's still the middle of the night when he reaches Wall Maria.

He pauses before the gate. Right around here is where Erwin made his final stand, where they had their final conversation as Erwin sat on a crate.

Levi is grateful for the darkness.

He dismounts and hitches the horse to a tree. The stench of sulphur hits his nose; he whirls and draws his blades.

A titan sprawls before him, eyes closed. He inches forward and holds out the light. It's sleeping. He doesn't recognize its face, but he feels a surge of energy anyway. There are still titans here; Eren's ritual didn't destroy them or drive them all away.

He climbs through the rubble around the gate and steps into Shiganshina. In the moonlight, he sees vaguely humanoid figures slumped against buildings. More titans. He shines the light at them as he passes, hoping -- and dreading -- that he'll see one recognizable as Erwin, but none are familiar.

The street brings him to the building where they left Erwin. He shines the light to the upper floor.

The roof is missing; the top floor has crumbled.

His breath catches. Is this real? It doesn't feel real. He kicks open the door and takes the steps three at a time. He's running so fast that he almost doesn't see the drop ahead of him; he stops just in time to avoid plummetting through a gaping hole in the floor. The room where they left Erwin is missing. All the debris looks as if it has been blown outwards.

"Fuck." His voice echoes off the walls. This is real. He sinks to a kneel, and the crumbled stone is painful and cold against his knees. He drags his fingertips through the rubble, feeling its sharpness. This is _real._

But if Erwin was a titan, where did he go? If Levi can find him before the sun rises, he can easily administer the serum before the titans awaken.

He closes his eyes and fights to calm his breaths. _Your instincts are a gift. I always want you to trust them, even if others don't understand._

Then it's Hange's voice that rises in his memory: _purpose appears to be linked to the titan form. Eren needs purpose to transform. Connie's mother was able to communicate with him because her purpose was to welcome him home. Dinah Fritz was able to track down Grisha Yeager after saying she would find him._

He opens his eyes and turns toward the neighbourhood where Eren Yeager once lived.

In the east, the sky begins to glow orange.


End file.
